


Injured

by TheLightIsMine



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Face Slapping, Fights, Friendship/Love, Injury, Injury Recovery, Jedi, Jedi Code, Lightsabers, Male-Female Friendship, Medical Trauma, Military Ranks, Protectiveness, References to the Jedi Council, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 10:03:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2464295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLightIsMine/pseuds/TheLightIsMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had never fought before. Not like this. Aayla Secura wakes up from her injuries to find Commander Bly at her bedside, but something seems off...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Injured

When her eyes opened, the first thing she saw was Bly at her bedside.

"How long?" Her voice was hoarse from lack of use.

"Three days." He paused. "Are you in any pain?"

The sedative was still ebbing at the edges of her consciousness like waves at a shore, but she managed to lift her head to survey the damage. From what she could see she was still intact, though her hands were bandaged and she felt the pull of stitches in her back as she tried to sit up. A deep ache in her neck and head began to bloom as Bly helped her into an upright position, and she fought the urge to slump back into the medbay pillows and go back to sleep. Despite herself, a small, weak smile escaped her. "No. I don't think so."

Bly raised an eyebrow at her; it was clear he wasn't convinced, but he said nothing. He was quiet, which was not unusual for Bly, but this silence felt... _different_. He picked up the jug beside her bed and poured her a glass of water, and she took it, hoping it might help the headache, smiling up at him gratefully. Yet he turned away from her without acknowledging her thanks, still silent. She was still fighting the sedative, but she reached out with the Force tentatively to get a grasp of Bly's mood. Despite his apparent calm exterior, she could feel the turmoil of emotions swirling under the surface, though as of yet she did not have the energy to pinpoint  _which_ emotions exactly. He never met her eyes, and when he sat down again his hands lay clenched in his lap.

At last she ventured to ask about the mission, as flashes of battle returned to her.  _She remembered...the fire..._  "How many casualties?"

He swallowed, the only external sign of his feelings. "They're replenishing the ranks as we speak."

A significant amount, then. Enough that they needed to replace their numbers. The loss settled on her like a weight, and she had to lie back and close her eyes as more images flooded her, silhouettes of burning men. Her masters would chastise her for her empathy, but she was too weak to fight it now. Bly continued.

"Razor and Veer were injured, as was the admiral when the bridge caved in." He gave a curt nod towards her bed. "And yourself."

The tension in his neck betrayed his emotions. It should have been a warning.

She barely managed to thank him - for  _what_  she wasn't sure, for sparing her the details perhaps - before she felt the tug of sleep once again, and the last thing she heard for a while were the tones of a med-droid informing Bly that visitors' hours were up. She saw his  _kama_ disappear through the doorway without a word, and then all was dark.

* * *

She was packing her things a few days later when he came to collect her. Carelessly, she'd lost her lightsaber somewhere. Her masters really would not approve. She must remember to ask Bly about that _._   _Perhaps it fell out of her hand during the explosion…_ the memory made her hands throb, though the burns had healed to faint scars.

She heard his crisp march outside long before he reached her door. His salute was an anxious greeting, hurried and edged with some kind of frustration. She raised an eyebrow; perhaps now, after so many days of his clipped responses and terse frown, was the time to lance the boil.

"Commander."

"Yes, General?"

Before she replied, she searched his features for a break in his forced indifference. His eyes were fixed on the wall as if it might collapse at any second. "What is bothering you?" She was rewarded with a slight flare of his nostrils, and she probed lightly, but found him closed off to her, as solid as the walls around them. "You have my permission to speak freely."

At first she thought he would simply brush it off, as he had done so often. But he set his jaw and dragged his gaze from the wall to address her. "With all due respect, General, your behaviour was…out of line."

The words were unexpected, and she frowned. "You're referring to the mission?"

"Yes, sir."

"Bly," the use of his name was an attempt to get him to relax. "I don't-"

"It is my duty to protect you." His shoulders bunched as his fists clenched at his sides, and tension rolled off him like syrup. She felt almost afraid to interrupt him, in case it caused him to snap once and for all. "It seems recently that you've completely forgotten, or have little regard for, those who would be held responsible for your injury." He paused, then added tersely, "Or death."

She frowned, mind scrambling to catch his train of thought. What could have caused his anxiety? Surely he was not being held to blame for her actions? "Has the Council been interrogating you? I will inform them that my injuries were the fault of my  _own_ actions, and not because you weren't there to  _protect_ me-"

"That, sir, is exactly my point."

The muscles in his neck bunched. The effect was as if a fog was dissipating before her eyes. She took a breath to slow her racing thoughts, and her cheeks grew hot with indignance. "You think I'm a  _danger_ to myself?"

"With respect, sir, you're reckless." He set his shoulders, and she felt his anger boiling towards the surface as he struggled to push it back down, like a fire that raged behind a closed door - and she was opening it. "You charge ahead to save those in danger without a  _single_ regard for your own safety."

"Bly, I am a  _Jedi_. It is my duty to protect you and your men as much as it is  _your_ duty to protect me." She laughed incredulously, raising her eyes to the ceiling. Was he  _blaming_ her for trying to  _save_ his troops? She crossed her arms and took a deep breath in an attempt to distance herself from her rising annoyance, trying to return to a more Jedi-like perspective. After a moment, she decided that the strict and firm route was the way to tackle his uncharacteristically emotional behaviour. "Bly, I  _did_ survive-"

He shook his head, biting at his lip. " _This_  time. But what happens the next time Razor or the admiral is in danger and you rush off headlong into the flames to save them? Or the next time? What happens then,  _General_?" The title was a mockery, and he took a step closer and jabbed a finger towards her chest, though he did not make contact. "Have you ever considered the guilt I would have to live with if you...?"

She shoved his pointed hand away from her body, and despite all her training, she felt her own anger begin to simmer in response to his. This was not at all the calm, solid soldier she knew Bly to be. His insult stung. "And what of the guilt  _I_  would live with knowing I left your men to die?" She couldn't stop herself from biting back at him, "Would you have preferred that they had perished?"

Suddenly, he turned away from her in exasperation and then swivelled back to face her, the look on his face barely contained frustration. "Yes! If it had meant you would have survived!"

That was when she hit him.

She felt the impact sting her hand long before she was aware of what had happened, her body acting unconsciously on her anger, and the sound reverberated around the room like a gunshot. He turned back to face her almost in slow motion, half of his face smarting red, and at the sight the sound echoed again in her own ears. The sudden silence in the room was palpable, descending on her shoulders like the heavy weight of the wounded. His nostrils flared as he took a breath to calm himself, though by the turmoil she could feel rising inside him it was not a very successful attempt. She took a step towards him and thought about touching his arm, perhaps reaching out to calm him through the Force, but she had already done more damage than good, and drew back. Her hands raised to her mouth instead and she closed her eyes. "Oh Force. I'm sorry, Bly…I didn't…"

"No," he rasped, "I'm sorry, sir. I was out of line." He stood to attention, a soldier again. A solid wall, locking her out. The sudden transformation was almost enough to physically push her a few steps backwards.

"Bly…" Her lekku twitched in puzzlement, trying to grasp the meaning of his earlier words as they echoed around her head, aware that there was some message she wasn't completely seeing.

The realisation bloomed like a bruise. She searched his eyes intently for confirmation, and she found it. He looked away.

Her insides turned cold and hot all at once, and she froze, unable to draw on any Jedi teachings or words of wisdom that would calm her. She heard him swallow again, and noted the rise and fall of his chest as he took a deep breath. Eventually she met his eyes, finding confused emotion, feeling it churning inside him, uneasy, but...there was some relief in his eyes, his shoulders relaxing even as her heartbeat began to speed up. He didn't look away from her gaze like he usually did. She sighed, an odd sort of relief spreading through her veins, and managed to smile. "Are you trying to tell me…that you don't want me to get hurt?"

His gaze faltered, but just for a moment. Would the hidden subtext of her words would be lost on him? Perhaps he would deny it. But eventually he looked up again, and he met her eyes steadily.

"Yes, sir."

She said nothing for a moment, but he did not waver. An almost-smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, and she felt oddly breathless. "Well, Commander…you might have led with that."

For a brief moment she thought he might simply nod and acknowledge her comment, but slowly his face broke into a smile and he gave a low chuckle. "Apologies, General Secura."

"And mine," she nodded towards the reddening side of his face, and felt herself blush in embarrassment, "for…"

"No permanent harm done, sir."

She gave a soft smile, taking a breath in an attempt to calm the nervous fluttering beat of her heart.  _You're a Jedi. Act like it._  She turned back to her bag, the packing attempt abandoned long ago, and reached for the remainder of her things, but Bly's cough distracted her. She looked at him; he was stood somewhat awkwardly, his arm outstretched towards her and her lightsaber resting in his open palm.

"I think you might be needing this, sir."

She stepped closer and took the weapon from his hand, its weight familiar and yet now...she wanted to thank Bly for finding it, yet couldn't find the right words any more. They should have been easy enough, but as she looked up at Bly's face nothing seemed easy any more. The red outline of a hand on the side of his cheek was slowly fading.

"Bly…"

He matched her gaze, one eyebrow raising expectantly as his eyes bore into hers. But whatever she had been about to say dissolved as suddenly she caught sight of the chrono on the wall over Bly's shoulder, and her eyes widened in mild alarm. It was later than she'd thought. She cleared her throat. "Well, I think we've kept the Council waiting long enough."

She turned away from him, unable to meet his eyes any more. She hastily threw the last of her things into the bag, hesitating before clipping her lightsaber to her belt, and Bly collected her bag and led her out of the medical centre to a parked speeder. They lifted off, and soon they had joined the afternoon traffic of Coruscant's city lanes, the spires of the Temple visible on the horizon. She turned from admiring the views to finally look at Bly again, his profile outlined by the sun's halo.

"If it makes you happier, Commander…I'll try to refrain from rushing into any flames from now on."

He manoeuvred the speeder into the next lane, and glanced at her with a smirk. "It's okay, General. I'll be right behind you next time."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not dead!
> 
> I've been bitten by the Bly/Aayla bug some more, and I was partially inspired by some lines from the song 'Planes Fly' by Angel Haze, (Swallow my secrets like a bitter pill/Repeat the same mistakes so wounds will never heal/You know the reason I can't look you in your eye/But I want your guilty body like you love my dirty mind). Huge huge thanks to laloga, who was my fantastic beta and breathed a whole new life into this fic! Your reviews are very welcome, as this fic was kind of a rollercoaster for me, so please let me know what you thought of the final product. :) Your words seriously make my day!
> 
> ~Light


End file.
